FROM: FRAN_UN-SEEN TO: RC_WRITER@HOTMAIL.COM (WED. 9/29/2010 12:30AM)
How about the very cliché and many a time repeated sonnet 18?
-Francine
I carefully crawled out of bed and escaped into the den. Slouching back into the computer chair I closed my eyes. It was a pointless experiment I knew sleep wouldn’t find me here just as it hadn’t found me in the bedroom. This was the time of night I hated most of all. When everyone was drifting off into peaceful rejuvenating sleep as one day turned to the next, insomniacs like me feel the bitter pain of being left out. I swivel the chair around in circles watching four walls turn into one. I blame college. I think tiredly, remembering pulling all-nighters every night. College scrambled my sleeping patterns for good. I stop the chair from spinning to face my everything, my computer. But then again always isolating myself to writing in this den somewhat contributes to night and day being obsolete in my life.
I gave up trying to uncover the truths of my insomnia, greeting my computer with a smile. My lovely lady HP greeted me with my familiar desktop. I opened up a random search engine and went straight to Google. Staring at the nearly empty webpage and the very intimidating search bar, I realized there was nothing I wanted to look up. Directing my attention to the web browser I realized there was nothing I truly wanted to do on the internet at all. All I really knew was that I did not want to toil over my story, and sleep was as possible as catching a star. Staring at the webpage as if it would tell me all the answers I happen to see my e-mail address at the top right corner signifying that I am logged into my Hotmail account. For the lack of something better to do I clicked on the link that would take me to my inbox. The screen came into focus, then quickly flickered out of focus and then reappeared again. Finding the webpage’s actions odd I decided to investigate what made the webpage behave so unruly. After a couple intriguing minutes of searching I found the reason for the webpage’s dance. Someone had just e-mailed me right after the page had loaded causing the page to refresh so abruptly. This someone to my amusement had been Francine.
I wonder what’s keeping her up tonight? Is she still up? My mind immediately questioned her whereabouts before I found myself hastily e-mailing her backtrying to catch her before she drifted off to bed.
FROM: RC_WRITER TO: FRAN_UN-SEEN@GMAIL.COM (WED. 9/29/10 12:34PM)
How about the very cliché and many a time repeated sonnet 18?
-Francine
I carefully crawled out of bed and escaped into the den. Slouching back into the computer chair I closed my eyes. It was a pointless experiment I knew sleep wouldn’t find me here just as it hadn’t found me in the bedroom. This was the time of night I hated most of all. When everyone was drifting off into peaceful rejuvenating sleep as one day turned to the next, insomniacs like me feel the bitter pain of being left out. I swivel the chair around in circles watching four walls turn into one. I blame college. I think tiredly, remembering pulling all-nighters every night. College scrambled my sleeping patterns for good. I stop the chair from spinning to face my everything, my computer. But then again always isolating myself to writing in this den somewhat contributes to night and day being obsolete in my life.
I gave up trying to uncover the truths of my insomnia, greeting my computer with a smile. My lovely lady HP greeted me with my familiar desktop. I opened up a random search engine and went straight to Google. Staring at the nearly empty webpage and the very intimidating search bar, I realized there was nothing I wanted to look up. Directing my attention to the web browser I realized there was nothing I truly wanted to do on the internet at all. All I really knew was that I did not want to toil over my story, and sleep was as possible as catching a star. Staring at the webpage as if it would tell me all the answers I happen to see my e-mail address at the top right corner signifying that I am logged into my Hotmail account. For the lack of something better to do I clicked on the link that would take me to my inbox. The screen came into focus, then quickly flickered out of focus and then reappeared again. Finding the webpage’s actions odd I decided to investigate what made the webpage behave so unruly. After a couple intriguing minutes of searching I found the reason for the webpage’s dance. Someone had just e-mailed me right after the page had loaded causing the page to refresh so abruptly. This someone to my amusement had been Francine.
I wonder what’s keeping her up tonight? Is she still up? My mind immediately questioned her whereabouts before I found myself hastily e-mailing her backtrying to catch her before she drifted off to bed.
FROM: RC_WRITER TO: FRAN_UN-SEEN@GMAIL.COM (WED. 9/29/10 12:34PM)
